Sitting in Leigh Delare, about to go to sleep and the whole place has just been infested with hundreds of ■■■■■■■■■ Swansea fans in loads of coaches. One of the coaches has decided to park alongside me, and vomit its alcohol-laden cargo out, who have smashed bottles all over the lorry park - or at least the bit I’m parked in, suppose it would have been too considerate to park in the remaining 95% of the lorry park which is empty. I’ve just dragged two black bags full of cans and bottles out from under the trailer and put them back on the coach, then caught one of the little ■■■■■ trying to put them back. Will be very when they’ve all ■■■■■■ off and I can get to sleep. Grrrrr!
Gary
The joys of nights out, you could drive up a single track lane for 25 bloody miles and some inconsiderate sod would turn up in a fridge and park right next door.
Its times like this you want an old ■■■■■■■ or Gardner, start it up let it tick over for half an hour filling their bloody bus with soot and fumes…might have used the smokey tickover trick in times gone by… 
It didn’t occur to you move over to somewhere in the remaining 95% of the lorry park? that’s what I’d have done.
I was once invited to reload on Trafford Park.
It was the same afternoon Manchester United were parading the first Champions League Trophy they had won.
I politely declined 
Born Idle:
It didn’t occur to you move over to somewhere in the remaining 95% of the lorry park? that’s what I’d have done.
Would that not have disturbed the evil electronic device you have in your trucks to prevent illegal and highly dangerous to the public manouvering of the vehicle outside of hours?
I would have moved, but reversing out of my spot (lorry in front), amidst the broken glass and ■■■■■■■■■ ■■■■■■■■■ was probably only going to end one of 2 ways - squashed fan or punctured tyre. Didn’t fancy having to get a tyre fitter out on a Sunday
Have just swept up the broken glass from under the wheels, so good to go very shortly
Gary
Aren’t you the lucky one!
With me though it’s usually some ■■■■ with a loud, douche bag exhaust that proceeds to cruise up and down the road at varrying speeds directly in front of my wagon the moment I draw the curtains. 
1999 the TREBLE! 